human again / hp.

Chapter 106

The final O.W.L. was finally over.

I let out a slow breath as I stepped out of the Great Hall, the heavy doors creaking behind me as they shut. My quill hand still ached from scribbling furiously through the dense and dusty paragraphs of the History of Magic exam. Binns had, of course, focused mostly on goblin rebellions and obscure treaties that I'd barely skimmed, and for a moment, I wasn't even sure I'd managed to answer the final essay properly. Still, it was done now.

I blinked in the afternoon sunlight filtering through the tall windows, stretching my fingers. Most students had rushed off in pairs or small groups, buzzing with post-exam energy, but I lingered, letting the relief settle in my bones.

Until I remembered Harry.

It had happened right in the middle of the exam—one moment, everyone was scratching away at parchment, and the next, Harry had jolted in his seat and fallen sideways with a loud thud. Gasps echoed through the hall, quills froze mid-word, and I'd turned in my seat just in time to see Madam Pomfrey and Professor Tofty rushing over. He'd looked pale, shaken, his eyes wide with something between fear and pain. Without a word to anyone, they'd taken him out of the hall.

No explanation. No word since.

I tried to push the memory aside as I wandered down a quiet corridor, hoping to find Daphne or just a moment alone. The castle felt oddly still in the aftermath of exams, the usual hum of noise replaced with an eerie silence that made my footsteps echo.

That was when I heard him.

"So Potter finally collapsed under the pressure. About time, don't you think?"

I turned and found Draco leaning casually against the stone wall, arms crossed, his usual smirk tugging at his lips. Blaise stood a few steps behind him, but it was Draco's eyes that fixed on me, dancing with amusement.

I scoffed, letting out a small, reluctant laugh. "Please, he's been teetering on the edge all year. I'm surprised he didn't crack sooner."

Draco chuckled. "Must be the stress of being everyone's favorite savior. Poor Potter."

We walked slowly down the corridor together, talking about the exams. He asked me about Arithmancy and I told him Potions was my worst.

Then we heard it.

Thundering footsteps. Shouts. A group of Inquisitorial Squad members ran past us, robes flying, all heading in the same direction—toward Umbridge's office.

Draco's eyebrows shot up. "What's going on now?"

We exchanged a glance before hurrying after them, curiosity gnawing at my stomach. As we rounded a corner, one of the squad members, Montague, glanced back at us.

"Someone broke into Umbridge's office," he said breathlessly. "She's livid."

That made me pick up the pace. Who in their right mind would break into her office now, when we were finally free of exams and she was more unpredictable than ever?

We pushed through the gathered students and entered the cramped, overly floral hell that was Umbridge's office—just in time to see something that made me freeze.

Harry was on his knees in the hearth, his head engulfed in green flames.

I barely had time to process it when, with a flash of movement, Umbridge surged forward and yanked him back by the hair. He let out a choked sound as she dragged him away from the fire and threw him to the ground like a sack of rubbish. I caught my breath, stomach twisting. Her face was contorted in fury, pale and gleaming with sweat.